


enterprise

by ont



Series: mockingbird [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Jealousy, Louis-centric, M/M, Married Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, POV Liam, POV Louis, POV Zayn, Parent Liam, Parent Louis, Parent Zayn, Post-Canon, Post-Zayn One Direction, Pregnant Louis, Rehabilitation, Show Business, domestic angst, marital discord, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7696549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ont/pseuds/ont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Louis has always served the purpose of finessing Liam, distilling his giant and expansive visions into smaller and more purposeful moves. It's still the way they write music, and they way they operate in their marriage. Liam, in turn, has always attempted to blunt his sharper edges, to spread his focus and spool out his intensity.</i>
</p><p>Set in between chapters 29 and 30 of the country of the mockingbird, and between 34 and 35.</p>
            </blockquote>





	enterprise

LONDON, JUNE 23, 2022

_Is Louis Tomlinson pregnant with his second child?_

_A new report from OK! Magazine claims that the One Direction singer and pop music mogul is expecting with his producer husband and bandmate, Liam Payne. The pair were married two years ago, and sources say they’ve been waiting for the perfect time to expand their family._

_Tomlinson already has a daughter from a previous relationship with former bandmate Zayn Malik -- adorable Mia Yasmeen, who Payne is a very doting stepfather to._

_This morning, Tomlinson was spotted sporting what seemed to be a small baby bump while crossing a parking lot in downtown London, where his artist management company is headquartered. OK! Magazine suggests that this combined with a tip from a source close to the family means they can fairly guarantee Tomlinson is expecting._

_“Louis has been really tired lately. He’s been slowing things down at work, and One Direction has pushed back their next album release by five months because of the baby,” the source reportedly said._

_Tomlinson is 30, and Payne is 28._

_Since they tied the knot, many have speculated on when they’d have a baby of their own together. Liam has been said to want as big a family as possible, although both celebs stay busy playing various roles in the music industry._

_Tomlinson has grown notoriously private since the birth of his daughter in 2016, so we’ll just have to keep an eye on him in the coming months._

 

*

 

“Shit,” Louis hisses, staring at his laptop. “Shit, shit.”

He clicks the article shut and rings Liam.

“Wassup,” Liam says cheerily.

Louis laughs. “Are you drunk at work?”

“Noo! I mean, a bit, we had some Dom... Dunno if you saw, but Tony’s first album just went platinum.”

“No way! Sick. Tell him I say congrats.”

“Why’d you call?” Liam says. Louis can hear chatter and laughter in the background that grows quieter after a moment, like Liam is leaving the room he’s in.

“I think it may be time to fire Gallagher Associates,” Louis says.

His assistant walks by and raps on his glass wall with a knuckle. He puts his hand over his phone and raises his eyebrows; she gives him an intent look and holds up five fingers, mouthing, “FIVE!” at him. He nods at her and mouths _thank you._

“What, why?” Liam exclaims. “I like them! They did such a nice job with the wedding blitz, we got great bumps on record sales and everything else, but nobody got tired and annoyed of us.”

“You haven’t seen, then?”

“No, what’s up?”

“OK’s got it that I’m pregnant.”

“Shit!” Liam says, clucking his tongue. “Damn. Alright, well, someone was going to, right? I mean, you’re showing a little, and everyone’s had their head shoved up your uterus since we got married...”

“I’ve been doing everythin’ right! I’ve hardly been out and about, I’m in hoodies all the time in fuckin’ July --”

“Noo, I’m not saying you haven’t,” Liam assures him. “Just maybe that it’s time now?”

“But we hadn’t told anyone,” Louis says, aggrieved. “I didn’t get to tell my mum or anybody -- I mean, you told your parents the second we found out, but that’s you --”

“I know, I just got excited, I get the second trimester thing --”

“And we need to tell Mia, like, _yesterday._ ”

Louis drums his fingers on his desk, growing a little morose.

“It’s just shitty,” he murmurs. “This should be a nice and exciting time for her, but it had to coincide with Zayn goin’ away…”

“Well, he’s getting the help he needs.”

“Right, but it’s like -- her biological dad disappears and everyone’s talkin’ about it, and I’ve got to sit her down and explain to her that I’ve made a baby with you, and it’s going to bring up that shit like -- why aren’t _you_ her biological dad -- I dunno.”

Louis puts his head down on his desk. His assistant walks by, this time in the other direction, and raps more insistently. He gives her a thumbs up.

“We’ll talk when we’re home,” Louis says. “I’ve got a meeting.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Liam says. “And you’re feeling alright?”

“Pukey.”

“Still?”

“Still pukey, aye.”

“Stop that, baby!” Liam admonishes, and Louis chuckles at how serious he sounds.

 

*

 

“Mumsy,” Louis says into his phone, sing-songy, as he steps off the elevator.

“Oh, what’ve you done now?” Jay says nervously.

“Hey!” Louis cries in mock offense, digging for his keys as he passes through security and waves to the guard, then steps into the revolving doors toward the parking garage. “Haven't done anythin’! So you haven’t seen any news in the last few hours?”

“No, I’ve just left the pool.”

“Alright, well, I wanted to do this in person, but it got leaked, and you ought to hear it from me first even if it’s on the phone,” Louis says, as he walks to his car. He’s flushed with happiness at the anticipation of saying it. He keeps marveling in how nice it feels to plan a pregnancy, to wait and wish for one, to daydream about your baby and be thrilled to tell people about it -- not queasy and terrified. “And I only waited ‘cos I wanted to be sure, but... I’m about fourteen weeks pregnant.”

There’s quite a lot of incoherent enthusiasm from her end. Louis grins.

“ _Finally_!” she crows into the phone. “Finally, Liam’s done it! Christ, we were all starting to get worried.”

“Mum! Of course Liam wasn’t like -- shootin’ blanks!” he says, embarrassed. “We just wanted the time to be right!”

“Well, whatever the reason -- oh, I’m so happy, baby. You’ve got to come around right away so we can feed you, alright?”

Louis promises her that he will as he climbs into his car. They hang up and he texts Liam, _jfc, my mum thought you were impotent_

Much to his amusement, Liam texts him back, _yea i know!!! she asked me about my dick last christmas!_

 

*

 

Louis’ next call is to Gallagher Associates, but he takes Mia to the park in their neighborhood first.

It's a very secure gated community, so he hasn't got to worry, but he wears a loose-fitted tee anyway. He pushes her on the swings for a while, and when a few of her neighborhood friends show up and start a game of tag, he takes the opportunity to disengage and have a seat on a nearby bench.

“Hello, Carol,” he says cheerfully, when their head rep picks up. “Why is bein’ widely reported that I'm pregnant?”

“Hi Mr Tomlinson! How are you? How's your -- what time is it over there?”

“Late afternoon.”

“How's your late afternoon going?”

“It's fine. Back to my question --”

“Well,” Carol says with faux-sympathy, “we did tell you that this would be a big story if anyone got a whiff of it. I mean, people have been waiting for this baby for a while. We’ve even had a few false runs on it in the last year. And you’re starting to show...”

“There are ways to quash a story, especially a juicy one, even once a big rag picks it up,” Louis snaps, annoyed that she thinks he's this dense. “Didn't OK! call you for comment? Why didn't you tell them to hold it, and offer an exclusive for their trouble?”

“We didn't have those explicit instructions --”

“Did you _need_ them? That’s how we handle everythin’! At least about us as a couple, and, mind, your entire responsibility is representing us as a couple.”

“I know you're upset, Louis --”

Louis sighs. “This is a fuckup on your part, I do hope you know.”

“We understand, and we apologize.”

“Who's their source?”

“Excuse me?”

“The source that said I was slowing down at work.”

“Ohh,” Carol says, and he can hear her shuffling papers. “We have no idea who that could be. Most likely, they made it up.”

“Really?” Louis says, amused. “They made it up? And they also happened to make up the fact that One Direction is pushin’ our album back exactly five months?”

“Oh, is that part true?” Carol says, sounding surprised.

“Are you joking?” Louis says. He’s incredulous. “You didn't know that? _"_

“We should have! I’m not sure why we didn’t --”

Louis presses his tongue to the back of his teeth. “Shit. You lot are _way_ too removed from my other reps. I dunno how that even happened.”

“Mr Tomlinson --” Carol says, sounding desperate to keep him on the phone.

“No, look, it isn't your fault, it's just -- we'll have to have a chat about our future with your company. I'll be in touch. Cheers.”

Carol says a rather frazzled goodbye. Louis feels for her; she's going to have to explain to her boss why two of their biggest clients are on their way out.

He watches his daughter as she plays, an easy smile on her face, giggling as she’s chased around the playground. They’ll have to tell her tonight, Louis realizes. The list of other places she could hear it from is expanding exponentially as he sits here in the humid summer air.

He presses his hand lightly to the warm and subtle curve of his stomach and gives a little sigh. He’s spent a lot of time considering the question mark of his baby lately, now that it’s safer to. He wonders if it’ll be a boy or a girl, what it’ll look like, what its voice will sound like, its laugh. 

Mia looks over at him, smiles and waves. He returns both of these gestures. She skips away, her black pigtails bobbing on either side of her head.

Louis misses Zayn, suddenly.

 

*

 

“How do you propose we go about this?” Liam whispers.

They’re peeking into Mia’s room from the doorway like absolute weirdos, as she reads a book on her bed, kicking her feet.

“Bribe her,” Louis mutters. “Let’s buy her a pony or summat.”

“Are you joking?”

“Not entirely.”

Louis steps into her room. Mia looks up at him, continuing to kick her feet.

“I’m reading,” she points out.

“I see that. What are you reading, love?”

She flips it to look at the cover. “ _Great Expep… Expectations_.”

He looks at her, baffled. “Really?”

“It’s a copy for kids. It’s shorter. My teacher gave me it, she said I’m her star reader.”

Mia seems very chuffed about this. Louis grins at her.

“You are a good reader,” he says. “Come downstairs a mo?”

“Alright,” she says agreeably, setting her book down on the bed in that way that saves her place but wrecks the spine. Liam keeps getting after to stop doing that, to no avail.

Liam leads them downstairs to the sitting room, where she perches on the couch across from them.

There’s an awkward moment where neither Liam or Louis knows how to proceed, and Mia glances rapidly between them like she’s at Wimbledon.

“So…” Louis begins, sliding his palms over his thighs and gripping his knees. “Got a question for you, Mims.”

“Okay,” she says, looking at him cannily.

“D’you know what it means to be pregnant?”

Mia squints at him. Her eyebrows raise and her mouth tilts.

Liam places a hand over top of Louis’ on his knee. Louis laces their fingers.

“It's how you get a baby?”

“Riiight,” Louis says, relieved that this bit is at least taken care of for him. “So --”

He fumbles for what he was going to say and comes up blank.

“More to the point,” Liam says, squeezing Louis’ hand, “you know how some of your friends have little siblings? Little toddlers, or little babies in prams?”

Mia nods.

“Well, soo..." Liam sucks in a breath before continuing. "So, Louis is pregnant. He and I are going to have a baby.”

Her face falls, and her little eyebrows knit together.

“You're getting a little sibling, is what we're saying,” Liam rushes to say. “A little brother or sister, who you can pal around with and teach stuff to, and all that.”

Mia frowns and scrutinizes Louis. He smiles at her.

“I don't get it,” she says. “Where’s the baby come from?”

“From here,” Louis says, gesturing to his middle.

“But --”

Louis shifts uneasily, knowing what territory they're going into.

“How?” Mia demands.

Liam and Louis look at each other.

“When people get married, they usually have babies,” Liam says, rather unhelpfully.

“But how did it get in there?” Mia says, pointing at Louis.

"Don't point, it's rude," Louis recites practically on autopilot.

“When somebody, um, loves somebody else, they can plant a seed in them that grows a baby,” Liam says, in an awkward and stilted manner. They had previously rehearsed this line together; perhaps over-rehearsed, Louis now thinks.

Mia shakes her head in utter bafflement, but seems willing to abandon this apparently fruitless tack in favor of other, more pressing questions. “When?”

“When what, love?” Louis says, standing up and crossing over to sit on the couch next to her. He strokes her hair.

“When do you get the baby?” she says, looking up at him.

“I'm due in the middle of December,” he says. “So right before both of our birthdays, actually.”

“Due?”

Mia is looking at him with one of her Zayn-like expressions, that dangerous combination of canny cleverness and quiet defiance.

“Takes nine months to make a baby,” Louis tells her patiently. “So at the end, when you're due, the baby comes out.”

“Comes out of where?”

Liam rubs at his eyes.

“You'll find that out when you're older,” Louis says quickly.

Mia grows quiet, seeming to consider all she's been told.

“I don't get it. You have me,” she says softly. “You don't need more, Daddy.”

Louis worries at his lip with his teeth, pained by how small she sounds. He squeezes her shoulder and moves her hair back from her face, then leans in close.

“We’ll always love you more than anythin',” he assures her, remembering some of the things his mum said to him when they went through the same thing. “You will always be my baby girl, you’ve got such a special place in me heart ‘cos you're my firstborn. Having you made me into a real adult.”

Louis’ breath catches and he clears his throat. Mia observes him with curious eyes, seeming to recognize his strong emotions.

“When this baby comes, I’ll look to you and rely on you to be a big girl and do what you can to help us out. I absolutely trust you to rise to the occasion. You’ll always be me right-hand man, alright? You got that?”

He waits for her to nod before he continues.

“But we want a bigger family, loves. We want a sibling for you to grow up with. You'll like it when you're older, I promise.”

“Maybe I won't,” Mia challenges.

“You will,” Liam promises. “My sisters weren't much for me at first, but now they think I'm alright.”

Louis laughs, and Liam winks at him.

“I'll get less toys!” she pronounces, with all the authority of the prime minister and the bitterness of somebody sixty years her senior ranting about immigrants.

“No,” Louis says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her on the top of her head. “We’ll just buy double the toys, you goofball.”

Mia makes an unhappy face. She's doing what Zayn, Liam and Louis all have come to refer to as ‘trying her case’, a recurring scenario where she doesn't like the idea of something and skillfully comes up with endless reasons to object to it, like a tiny solicitor.

“What if I hate it?” she says. Louis is profoundly relieved that she hasn't landed on any awkward questions about paternity yet. These simpler ones, he can answer all day.

“You might at first,” he says. “But you won't for long, I promise. And think of it like this… you'll have someone to team up with against us. It'll be you two versus us.”

He seems to have finally struck on an angle for the situation that she likes. Louis observes her as she contemplates this and is clearly pleased by it.

“Is it a brother or a sister?” she finally says, looking at Liam and then up at Louis again. He smiles fondly at her.

“Not sure yet,” he says. “I'll tell you as soon as we know.”

“It should be a girl,” Mia says decisively. “Boys smell.”

“Hey, _we're_ boys,” Liam says, smiling at Louis. Louis smiles back.

“No, you're daddies.”

“Oh, well, alright then,” Liam concedes.

Mia examines Louis, her eyes bright with wonder. “Can I feel where it is?”

“Oh, sweets, absolutely,” he says gladly, and draws her little hand to his stomach.

Mia waits about ten or so seconds, then looks at him as if cheated. “It feels like normal.”

“In a little while, you'll be able to feel it movin’,” Louis tells her.

“I don't wanna _wait_ ,” she protests. “Why can't it come now?”

“What, like, tomorrow?”

Mia nods emphatically, her pigtails bouncing.

Liam laughs. “It's very tiny right now,” he says. “It has to get bigger first.”

“Tell it hurry up,” she informs Louis.

“I'll give it the message.”

“Can I go read?”

“Yes, love, go ahead.”

Mia hops off the couch and runs upstairs. She runs most everywhere lately, like she's in training for a marathon. The rest of the time she skips.

Liam joins Louis on the other couch and they cuddle up together, Liam's arms around him.

“No questions about the awkward stuff,” Liam says gleefully, kissing him on the top of the head.

“Hmm,” Louis intones. “Just wait, Payno. Those’ll come.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Let's see…” Louis settles back further into the warmth of Liam's arms. “It's in the press now that I'm pregnant, which isn't somethin’ I can exactly deny. Parents at Mia’s school, the snobby ones who’ve never liked me, they'll start talkin’ around their kids at home, say shit about me an’ you and me an’ Zayn -- how we got together while I was pregnant, all that fun shit -- and kids’ll bring that to school…”

“She may not hear it,” Liam says hopefully.

Louis strokes the back of Liam’s hand where it rests on his shoulder. “She's popular enough and young enough that kids won't use it out of malice,” he concedes, “but she will hear it. Trust me. An’ then she'll come home and have questions for me.”

“Maybe Za --”

Liam cuts this sentence off in the middle and makes a face.

“Maybe Zayn could talk to ‘er?” Louis says, with an accompanying rueful laugh. “That what you were about to say?”

"My bad,” Liam murmurs. "Totally slipped my mind.”

“No worries, babe,” Louis says softly. “I forget sometimes too.”

“It isn’t so bad,” Liam says. He hesitates before adding, “It isn’t like the last time he wasn’t around.”

Louis nods and cuddles closer to Liam. Liam raises a hand and strokes Louis' hair absent-mindedly.

 

LONDON, JUNE 25, 2022

Louis shifts around, doing his best to get comfortable despite having his shirt hiked up in a frigid room and ultrasound gel smeared on him.

“Can she get back already?” he mutters.

Liam is staring at his phone, tapping out a beat on his shoe and mouthing something.

“Heyy,” Louis says to him.

“Sorry!” Liam says quickly, shoving it in his pocket. “Not working, not working.”

“I know it isn’t, like, a real appointment, since the whole point is the pap walk. But if I’ve got to be greased up and freezing, I’d like you to be bored in solidarity,” Louis says, gesturing.

It comes out a little more tense than he intends it to. The stress he’s been under lately is settling in his jaw and chest, making his sentences come out spring-loaded.

“Always, Tommo.” Liam gives a cheeky salute and seems to be willing to ignore his apparent annoyance, to Louis’ relief.

“Sorry about that!” Dr Rosie exclaims as she bustles in the door. “All set. I should have picture now.”

She presses the wand to Louis. Liam comes over and sits next to him, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

The grainy static on the screen coalesces into familiar shapes. Louis watches, pleased, as she scans over their baby’s perfect limbs and perfect head, all while they listen to the strong _whoosh whoosh_ of its heartbeat.

Liam is grinning. He always loves this. Louis watches him for half of the ultrasound, entranced by the joy on Liam’s face. Liam notices this, and kisses him on the nose.

“Healthy as ever,” Dr Rosie pronounces. “Still don’t want to know the sex?”

Louis shakes his head firmly. “Still goin’ for the surprise angle.”

Since he’d just been examined the week before, they rush through all of the other bullet points; Louis assures her that his eating habits have not vastly changed in the last seven days, he’s had no spotting, et cetera.

Liam takes a call in the hallway, with a greatly apologetic expression. Louis doesn’t mind, as this gives him a chance to get her alone.

“Listen,” he whispers, as he buttons up his shirt. “I do want to know the sex. It's just I want to surprise him with it, and he insists on comin’ to every single appointment. So can I set up another one of these extra ones?”

“Absolutely,” she says. “What day?”

“Beginning of July, most likely. Email me your openings. Also…”

Louis hesitates and squints at her.

“I don’t want you to think I'm like, questioning your ability to read an ultrasound…”

She flaps her hand dismissively. “I’m a doctor, not an ultrasound tech, so go ahead.”

“Just --”

He feels anxious even saying it, and cracks his knuckles.

“Could it be twins? Runs in me family, and it’s sort of, like, a fear of mine, actually. And I, um, I started showin’ earlier than last time. Any way you could’ve missed that?”

“I doubt it,” Dr Rosie says, “and it's normal to show sooner with your second pregnancy.”

Louis sighs in relief.

“However, it is not, shall we say, out of the realm of possibility for early ultrasounds to miss twins.”

Louis’ relief goes up in smoke, and he grimaces at her.

“So,” she says quickly, “let’s just make your next appointment with a tech, who can really easily give you the sex and also assuage your fears.”

“Perfect.”

Liam pokes his head back in the door, perfectly timed. “Paps are getting anxious,” he says.

“Oh, fuck them,” Louis scoffs.

“Well, generally, yeah, but we did call them this time, so…”

Liam keeps his arm around Louis’ shoulders for their entire walk to the car, from the office to the elevator through the lobby out to the car park. Louis likes how often he does that. He likes how attentive and doting Liam is.

“I love these,” Liam whispers in the elevator. “It’s so, so cool. I’m like, obsessed with this baby. I wish I was pregnant, sometimes, just to be able to feel it grow. That must be so cool.”

“I’ll trade you,” Louis murmurs, nuzzling against him. “I threw up while I was driving this mornin’, and yesterday I cried for twenty straight minutes watching _Tarzan_ with Mims.”

Liam laughs his bassy laugh and kisses him on the cheek. “I know it isn't a walk in the park,” he promises. “I do. I want to make it as easy on you as possible. I’m wrapping up so many loose ends at work, it’s ridiculous. Terrence keeps calling me the Terminator.”

Louis laughs. “But are you the Arnold Terminator, or Robert Patrick?”

“Neither, I'm T-X,” Liam teases, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes. “Terminating with style, looking fit doing it.”

“I can't believe you know the proper names of the Terminators,” Louis says. “Actually, never mind, I can absolutely believe that.”

Louis almost doesn’t mind the paparazzi when they’ve been arranged for in advance; they’re so much more well-behaved when that’s the case. They just stand in a line and get their photos, gently jostling each other but otherwise keeping their distance. They seem to respect their subjects more when access is freely offered.

Liam has slid his arm around Louis’ waist so the side of his hand is just brushing against the subtle swell of his stomach as they walk out of the building. The sound of shutters closing and flashbulbs commences immediately.

It’s very coy, what they're doing, but effective. These photos will strengthen their image as a couple and both of their brands without Louis ever having to give over power and have his reps make a corny statement, which he hates. He'd rather talk directly to his fans, or just let them put two and two together.

The paps shout half-hearted questions as they climb into the car, and are resolutely ignored. Liam slides in first and Louis lies down across the seats, his head in his husband’s lap.

“Perfect,” Louis murmurs. “Good stuff. Fans’ll love those.”

Liam reaches out and rests his hand below Louis’ ribs, with a more easy intimacy to his fingers than while they were walking. Louis looks happily up at him. Liam smiles, his eyes crinkling.

 

*

 

Louis is looking through the pap photos when Zayn rings him.

They look good, and far less staged than he had feared. It helps that Liam is an affable pro at this and never balks at it or makes more of it than it is. His touch is very husbandly, and the way he smiles at Louis is genuine. He's so photogenic; Louis has always envied him that.

“Hey you,” he says softly, when he picks up.

“Hi,” Zayn says. “How’re you?”

“I'm alright,” Louis says, playing with the string on his joggers. “How's rehab going?”

Zayn clears his throat. “Tough. They don't fuck around down here.”

“I should hope not, right?”

“Is our kid around?”

“Yeah, lemme find ‘er.”

“You tell her you're pregnant?” Zayn says, sounding somewhat strained.

Louis wasn't expecting this question, although he knows he should have been. “Yeah,” he says after a pause.

“She take it okay?”

“Surprisingly well.”

“Any awkward questions?”

“None of the big ones, yet. Reckon they'll come later.”

“Is it…” Zayn hesitates. “You're feeling alright?”

“I'm good,” Louis murmurs, running his hand over his stomach as he walks from one wing of the house to the other. He likes that Zayn asked.

“I heard it's out, now. Haven't got the internet in here, but someone mentioned it to me.”

“Aye, couldn't keep it a secret much longer.”

Zayn is quiet.

“Sorry, must be a bit awkward when people bring it up to you,” Louis says with regret. “I know how they like -- dramatize this entire thing in the rags.”

“Right,” Zayn says. “Isn't your fault, mate… if it's anyone’s, um…”

He trails off and doesn't resume his sentence. Louis stands in their daughter’s doorway. He drops his hand from his middle and slides it into his pocket.

“Here she is,” he says, stepping into the room. He hands the phone to her and mouths _Zayn_.

Mia takes the phone in excitement. “Daddy!”

Louis gives her privacy and departs, returning downstairs, where the housekeeper is vacuuming. He sits in the kitchen and puts a cup of tea on. He isn't supposed to work today; he's transitioning to having Wednesdays off, but he hates it. It's worse to be off in the summer, when his day isn’t broken up by the routine of seeing Mia off to school and picking her up again. Afternoon hours stretch ahead of him, sickly in their interminability.

He glances through at Twitter. The fans are uniformly thrilled about the baby, albeit bummed about the delayed album. He taps off a tweet thanking them for their support and enduring patience.

Liam has been all in favor of the delay, and of him working less in general. If Liam could have his way, Louis would be encased in bubble wrap and sit very still on a couch until the moment he went into labor.

The ironic part of this is that Liam is himself less fond of working than Louis is. He thinks that if Liam were the omega, he would happily stay home all day building pillow forts and teaching their children French. He would have gotten pregnant on their honeymoon or soon after.

Liam never would been crazy enough to serve out the rest of OTRA while knocked up. He would have apologized profusely and been a wreck over it, but he would have ultimately and nobly gone home. He would have tried to make it work with Zayn.

They're very different people.

Louis has always served the purpose of finessing Liam, distilling his giant and expansive visions into smaller and more purposeful moves. It's still the way they write music, and they way they operate in their marriage. Liam, in turn, has always attempted to blunt his sharper edges, to spread his focus and spool out his intensity.

This is the primary reason that, as a pair, they seem to excel at most endeavors they set their minds to. The press loves them and their story, people eat up content about them with a spoon. Even as the band winds down and their careers move more and more to behind the scenes of popular music, their public life stays a matter of interest and a useful professional tool for them to leverage.

The only thing that trips them up these days is the tabloids’ half-fictional version of Zayn. Previously, this was intentional on his end; his reps willfully fed the popular narrative about them as a love triangle in order to sell records and drive up sympathy for Zayn. Now, the narrative is a monster of their own creation; Zayn is doing everything in his power to turn the corner on this, he's working doggedly to, but the die has been cast.

As Louis scrolls through a link roundup email from the band’s PR, he sees headline after headline speculating about Zayn’s stint in rehab having something to do with the baby. It's all nonsense, but it's the sort of sexy nonsense that everyone loves to read and believe.

“Did you send your sister’s daddy t’ rehab?” he says aloud drily, to the baby. “Impressive, you’re just the size of an apple…”

 

LONDON, JUNE 26, 2022

“I feel so shady,” Liam mutters, as he takes a seat at the dining table in Harry’s massive white and gold hotel suite.

Harry grins at him as he flutters his napkin onto his lap. He agreed to see Liam during a short break between trips to the set; he’s just ordered pancakes from room service to carb-load with. He looks fantastic; he's a picture of gleaming Hollywood perfection, not a shining hair out of place or an ounce of body fat on him, his green eyes glimmering and his teeth so white they nearly cast a glare.

“Does Louis even know I’m filming in town this weekend?” he says. “Much less that you’re stopping by?”

Liam shakes his head vehemently.

“Intrigue,” Harry says, as he stabs his pancakes. He winks at Liam. “Imagine if _we_ had an affair. That’d really clinch it, wouldn’t it? I don’t think Fleetwood Mac was even that bad.”

“Harry,” Liam says, trying not to laugh. He squeezes his phone in his sweaty palm and sets it down. “You don’t have a lot of time, so let’s just get into it.”

“Right,” Harry says. He swallows. “You’ve got info I want, though.”

“Zayn info?”

“Mmm,” Harry says impassively. “Zaynfo…”

Liam groans.

“This is actually quite a difficult conversation,” Harry says lightly, “but I’m shooting some comedic scenes today, and I can’t get into that weird headspace. So you’ll have to allow me my stupid jokes.”

“As many as you want, mate.”

“But do go on, please,” Harry says, wiping his mouth. His bracelets jingle on his wrist as he does.

Liam opens his mouth to begin, but they're interrupted by an assistant of Harry’s poking her head in the door.

“Mr Styles,” she whispers.

“Hi,” Harry says, glancing at her and raising his eyebrows.

“Um, Jim’s got rewrites for you.”

“Will they be in my trailer?” he says, resting his elbow on the table and his hand against his chin.

“Yes.”

“I'll fetch them later then, thanks love,” Harry says, and winks. She flushes.

“I'll get out of your way,” she says quickly.

“Please lock it behind you, if you could,” Harry calls after her as she departs. He glances back to Liam. “Sorry about that.”

“Alright, Liz Taylor,” Liam teases. “Soo glamorous. I'm surprised you could make time for me.”

Harry flaps his hand. “Oh, please don't say that, I always do.”

“So…”

Liam toys with a napkin ring.

“I guess it's just this Zayn thing,” he mutters. He truly hates talking about this.

“Go on…”

“Well, we met right before he went into rehab. And I confronted him on how he hasn't let go of Louis all these years, and he's kept hoping Louis would leave me for him, and how…” Liam sucks in a breath, “ _sick_ that makes me…”

He says this last bit with an invective that shocks him and he sits, unburdened by saying it but upset at having to.

Harry stares at him in shock. “Wow,” he says, his voice soft and awed. “I had no idea you'd ever addressed that with him… Good on you, honestly.”

“He lost his shit when Louis told him we were trying,” Liam says bitterly. “And then we got pregnant, and I just… I thought it was time.”

Harry sets his fork aside and laces his fingers.

“How much does Louis know?” he says, his voice even.

Liam feels very helpless and small. He shrugs wordlessly.

“I dunno,” he says. “I don't think he really knows the extent of it. How Zayn feels. He's in denial or something. They've got, like, this weird _thing_. I try not to bring it up ever. I'm not threatened by it. I swear I'm not. It's just like -- you know, that summer he was gone, Louis went around the bend, practically --”

Harry looks down with guilt on his face.

“Zayn told me he was with you, then,” Liam murmurs. “That you were together, and it ended badly.”

Harry nods, his jaw tight. “Right,” he says, and bites his lip. “We were. It did.”

Liam feels rotten on his behalf. “I don’t mean to --”

“No, it’s relevant,” Harry murmurs, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“He hates it when Zayn is gone,” Liam says, his voice rising. He swallows it back down in his throat. “I don’t think he even realizes how much he does.”

“He loves you,” Harry says slowly, inclining his head at Liam. “He adores you. He’s your husband. He’s having _your_ baby.”

Liam shakes his head in affirmation of how silly he’s being.

“I know, I know,” he says, swallowing. He takes a sip of water.

Harry’s pancakes lay abandoned. He shrugs and pushes them toward Liam, who takes a bite.

“He’s hormonal and stressed out,” Harry says. “That's all.”

“No, I know, I know…”

Harry seems to be very prickly on the topic of the history between Zayn and Louis, and Liam doesn’t want to push him.

“The thing I really wanted to talk about,” Liam says, smoothly changing gears, “is like -- I need Zayn’s behavior to actually change. I’m sort of scared now.” He hesitates. “I feel like I put all my cards on the table by calling him out on this, and now.... If he doesn’t change, and he doesn't let go of Louis… And, God, this sounds pathetic, but when I saw him, we were almost friends again for a moment there. We haven’t talked one on one since he went in, but…”

He looks away. There’s a lump in his throat.

“I don't want to lose that again. I need him to stop resenting me… I miss him,” Liam says. “I miss our friend.”

“Me too,” Harry says, sounding overcome. Liam glances back at him and Harry gives him a weak smile.

“That song,” Liam says, sucking in air. It burns him to even think of it. “That fucking song.”

Harry’s eyes are bright with hurt. “Yeah,” he says. “That was, um… sort of a sledgehammer to the balls.”

“Louis thought it was about Gigi, or you,” Liam says, pained. “Did you know that?”

Harry laughs without mirth. “If only it had been.”

He drums his fingers on the table. His mouth slants with unhappiness.

“I was supposed to not get in a weird headspace.”

“Sorry, Haz…”

“It's alright,” Harry assures him. “Listen, I can talk to Louis about all this…”

“Oh no, no,” Liam exclaims. “No, you'll blindside him and he'll get defensive. No offense, you’re the last person he wants to hear about this from.”

“I’m subtle,” Harry says patiently. “I’ll be subtle. I’ll remind him that he's got to allow Zayn to let him go.”

Liam shifts in discomfort.

“Liam, it isn't a reflection on you,” Harry says, seeking out his eyes. Liam feels flustered and unsettled. “You're Louis’ favorite person, you're everything to him. I see how he looks at you. Sometimes, I even think the reason he still indulges this shit from Zayn because he feels guilty for choosing you and never having a doubt in his mind.”

“Right,” Liam murmurs. “Well… I know from my friend Mike that Zayn still feels guilty he had a baby with Louis and not you.”

Harry sucks in a breath with difficulty.

“My headspace!” he says humorously.

“Sorry, sorry --”

“No, it's alright, it's well and fucked now, isn't it?” Harry grins. “I'll meditate in the car over, or something.”

They're quiet for a moment. Liam draws a breath shakily, in preparation for what he's got to say.

“D’you think he still would have picked me, settled down with me, if he didn't have a daughter to think about?” he says. He aches with years of repressed anxiety.

Harry gazes at him with sympathy, then nods emphatically. “Yes, Liam. Yes. And I think you know that.”

Liam exhales.

“I have a question,” Harry says softly. “How's he doing in rehab?”

“Pretty well, from what I've heard from Louis. He seems to be taking it seriously.”

A shadow crosses Harry’s face. “You know, if he'd gotten there a year ago, a year and a half ago, I'd…”

He stabs his pancakes again. Liam comes around the table and hugs him. Harry clings to him like he hasn't had a good hug in a while.

“We’ll just wait and see,” Liam murmurs into his shoulder. “If it sticks. If he keeps his promises. If he goes to his meetings and collects his chips.”

“And then anyone who's with him would be looking over their shoulder for the next few years, waiting…” Harry breaks off.

“Hey, don't do that to yourself. Don't write those scenarios. What happens, happens.”

Liam draws back from him, and they look at each other.

“Keep me updated,” Harry whispers. “Let me know.”

“I will,” Liam swears.

Another knock comes at the door.

“Mr Styles? They need you on the set,” a female voice calls.

Liam grins at him, pats him on the shoulder and mouths _go_. Harry stands up and wraps him in another hug, pulling him more tightly into his arms this time, and then accompanies him into the hall.

 

*

 

“Who’ll the baby look like?” Mia says, as Louis helps her put on her ballet slippers.

Louis freezes for a brief moment.

“Me and Liam,” he mutters. He hates helping her with these shoes; the straps confuse the hell out of him.

“Oh. Okay,” she says.

Louis looks up at her, their similar eyes meeting. “Okay?”

She nods, her tight ballerina bun staying stationary as she does. He tries not to betray how relieved he is.

Downstairs, Liam greets them.

“How was work?” Louis says, collecting his keys off the foyer table. Liam bends to greet Mia with a hug. Mia runs into his arms and tackles him backward. Liam lies against the hardwood floor, laughing his arse off.

“Don't mess up your hair, it took ages,” Louis says, smiling at them.

“Shush, Daddy,” Mia says dismissively.

“Work was good,” Liam says, a picture of good cheer as he gets to his feet. “Got loads done today.”

He comes over to kiss Louis. Louis smiles into the kiss, cupping his jaw and stroking his hair, then jingles his keys at him.

“Want to take us to class?” he says. “I keep puking when I drive, lately.”

“I can do that,” Liam agrees, nuzzling him. “How was work for you?”

“Same old shit. Drew up some contracts, oversaw the signing of some contracts… chatted with legal about the end of our audit...” He swipes his thumb over Liam’s lips, and Liam pulls him closer. Louis luxuriates in his touch.

“Sounds thrilling,” Liam murmurs, his hand moving south.

“Mmm…”

Mia looks up at them, impatiently waiting for their flirting to end. Louis puts a stop to it, and leads Liam out to the car.

“So,” Liam says, once Mia’s buckled into the back and they're all settled in. Louis looks over at him. “Tony’s having a party Friday, to celebrate going platinum… we’re obviously invited.”

“A twenty-two year old rapper’s house party?” Louis says, laughing. “Is that our speed, anymore?”

Liam shakes his head and puts his hand on the back of Louis’ seat, peering behind him so he can do a three point turn. “I had the same thought, but it's more of an industry mixer. Lots of execs. His parents’ll be there.”

“Went from being not our speed to sounding borin’,” Louis teases. “No, definitely, we ought to go. Congratulate him, have a date night.”

Liam winks at him. “Great minds, on that last bit.”

“I want to go!” Mia calls from the back.

“ _Date_ night, sweets,” Louis replies, glancing at his phone. “You don't come on those.”

“I wanna go!”

“Tell you what, we’ll head to the coast this weekend. We’ll visit Uncle Niall, and you can play in the tidepools again. Alright?”

Mia’s quiet.

“Okay,” she finally acquiesces.

“Niall’ll appreciate that,” Liam murmurs.

“I can't believe this thing with Barb,” Louis says, rubbing at his temple with a knuckle. He can feel nausea creeping up on him, and he digs in the glovebox for his Sea Bands. “He needs to just make it right with ‘er.”

“I really think they just grew apart.”

“You know Niall, if that happened it was moreso on his end.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“It’s just… they’re _married._ Y’know? They’re partners. You don’t get into or out of that lightly."

A pleased look passes over Liam’s face. He pats Louis on the thigh, and then leaves his hand there as he drives. Louis looks at him with curiosity, but when Liam doesn’t say anything, he just covers his hand with his own.

 

LONDON, JUNE 29, 2022

“Maybe I shouldn't go,” Louis calls, as he tries for the umpteenth time to fix his hair in the mirror.

Liam appears behind him, fussing at his buttons. “What? What’re you talking about?”

“I dunno…”

Louis leans his elbows on the counter and runs his hands over his face, momentarily giving into his exhaustion.

“Work was bullshit, today…”

“I wish you'd start going in less.”

“I can't! Not any more than I already have! At least not right now.”

Liam begins rubbing his shoulders. “Is it still the tax shit?”

“I mean, it's all taken care of,” Louis mutters. “You know -- we weren't found to have done any actual wrongdoing. But it dragged so on and on, I think ‘cos Simon’s done the HMRC so dirty all of these years. I've got his stink on me. Anyway, now it's just like, it's fine, but all of our clients know it happened and they're skittish --”

Liam nods, moving his hands lower and digging his fingers into the tight bands of Louis’ sore back muscles.

“And I've got to be around, they've got to see my face and know I'm still a steady hand on the wheel, baby or not --”

“You don't have to do everything.”

Louis shakes his head. “I'll go,” he says. “Tonight. I do really want a night out with you. But let's leave early.”

“That was absolutely my plan,” Liam murmurs, kissing his shoulder. “I don’t want to wear you out. I just, y’know, I wanna show you off to people, I want to go out. And this kid owes you his career, Tommo, and everyone knows it, he wants to thank you --”

“He would've had a career without me,” Louis says, with a breathy laugh. “He worked extremely hard for it.”

“Of course, but you're more powerful than you think, babe.”

Louis looks at himself in the mirror. To himself, he looks tired and a bit puffy in the face. He hasn't gotten outside much this summer, and the black top he's in is washing him out.

“Pick me out some clothes,” he says, softly, sexily.

“Ooh,” Liam purrs, “I'd love to.”

Louis follows him to their walk-in. Liam throws it open with aplomb and grins at Louis. Louis grins back.

Liam tosses him some black skinny jeans, and then a dark garnet boat-necked tee made of a stretchy, clinging fabric.

“You look good in red,” Liam says, giving him a winsome smile as he trails his eyes down Louis’ body. “Like, really good.”

Louis’ face grows warm and his stomach clenches with arousal. He preens under Liam’s gaze for a moment and winks at him before taking the clothes.

“Payno, those are my regular jeans,” he says, holding them back out to him. “That train has sailed, lad.”

“Shit, sorry,” Liam says, and he digs around for the ones with the stretchy waists as Louis changes his shirt.

When he’s fully dressed and has slipped on a Rolex, Liam comes up to him and starts getting handsy. He’s still just in his shirt and boxers.

“Do we have time?” Louis murmurs, biting his lip.

“I made sure we would,” Liam says in a soft rumble.

“So you dressed me up just to undress me?” Louis teases, reaching down and pinching Liam’s arse.

“Depends, you wanna make love or just snog for a while?”

“Snogging’s good, snogging won’t wear me out. Also...” Louis giggles as Liam kisses down his neck and slides his hands up under his shirt. He cups Liam’s jaw in his hands. “Don’t say make love, for Christ’s sake...”

“I feel so douchey and common saying fuck when you’re pregnant,” Liam murmurs in his ear. He adopts an American accent and a frat boy voice. “Let’s _fuck,_ bro, let’s just _fuck it out,_ man --”

Louis laughs hard at this. “Yeah, no, fuck me and do that voice the whole time, please.”

“Let’s play some cornhole and _fuck,_ dude! Lemme do some body shots off you. Let’s drink some Rolling Rock,” Liam says, hitching Louis’ shirt up so he can kiss down his chest and ribs, then over his belly.

“Do my nipples,” Louis orders, and then gasps and arches off the bed as Liam does. “That’s not a half bad impression, really.”

Liam raises his head, grinning, his eyes dark and his cheeks flushed, his mouth wet with saliva. “They're a good chunk of my target audience, so...”

“This sucks,” Louis murmurs. “I’m just gettin’ all hot for you and I think we’re both gettin’ hard. Wanna pick this back up when we’re home, if I’m not asleep?”

“That could be fun,” Liam says, smiling, his voice deeper from arousal. “We can flirt all night ‘til we can’t take it anymore.”

They sit up, still handsy like teenagers. Liam’s hands rest at the dip of Louis’ waist, and he slides his thumbs over Louis’ skin as he gazes into his eyes, hardly breathing.

“This is nice,” Louis murmurs, feeling quite bonded to him and sedated by their love.

Liam beams, boyish and charming. “I hate being at work,” he says, kissing his top lip. “I hate being away from you.”

“I know,” Louis says, cupping Liam’s face in his hands and kissing him on the nose. “It's alright, we’ve got it all planned. You'll be home when I need you, yeah?”

“Won't leave your side,” Liam promises. “You'll get tired of me, really. You'll be putting me on a train to Cambridge by the time the baby comes. Off you go, mate, go punting around for a bit.”

Louis laughs, stroking his thumbs over Liam’s stubbly cheeks.

 

*

 

“I want to thank everybody here tonight,” Tony calls across the gathered crowd in his massive living room. He’s standing on a table, holding up his glass of champagne.

Pleased murmurs and soft cheers go up.

“Everybody who made this album possible… my parents, who are here tonight. Shauna, my girl, my ride or die. My entire label, for all their support, their guidance, for holding me down and believing in me. Everyone who wrote on and produced this album -- especially Tim, Terrence, Mack and Liam… some of the nicest blokes I’ve ever met, the best at what they do. And Louis Tomlinson --”

Tony points at him. A few people turn and look, and smile when they realize he’s present. Louis grins and gives Tony a nod of the chin. Tony returns it.

“You are a true believer, man,” he says. “I’ve never met anybody like him. He’s the best, he’s always in your corner.”

Touched, Louis drops his head. He’s warm inside, like he always gets when he remembers why he’s in this business.

“And he knows real talent when he sees it… am I right, lads?”

Tony cheekily holds up his platinum record; a few of his friends boo fondly.

Liam wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulder and squeezes him close. “See…? This is why I wanted you to come.”

“Alri-ight, you were right…”

 

*

 

Louis is sick twice in the upstairs bathroom; once in the bath because he’s not quick enough to get to the toilet and open the lid, and then another time in the toilet.

He kneels in front of it for two minutes after, waiting to see if there’s more, ignoring drunk women pounding on the door demanding to take a wee.

When he’s resolved that there isn’t going to be, he stands on wobbly legs and rinses his face for a while. He hates how morning sickness makes him feel. Puking is one thing, he’s been wasted or hungover enough times to have long since grown out of any fear of puking, but the bone-deep knowledge that he doesn’t have control over his own body bothers him.

Louis can’t help but think of being pregnant with Mia, lately. He can’t help but think of rushing backstage to barf and immediately having to return and perform, smiling through clenched teeth -- of kneeling in the grass by the roadside, puking on the way to Zayn’s house to tell him about the baby, and of realizing he might be pregnant while bent over a hotel toilet. It brings up all his worst memories of feeling like his life was careening entirely and absolutely out of control.

He squeezes a dollop of toothpaste into his mouth and then rinses it out. He’s utterly exhausted. Any sexy feelings he had from earlier have vanished; he feels guilty about that, despite knowing he shouldn’t.

Louis leaves the bathroom and makes his way through Tony’s labyrinthine home. It’s the sort of place you buy the instant you crack a liquid five million. Louis can relate to his need to display his wealth; he knows Tony comes from similar circumstances as he did.

He’s all smiles and waves for the people at the party as he makes his way past them. There’s hardly anyone here he doesn’t know. If he felt up to it, he’d be schmoozing and palm-pressing the night away.

Louis sees Liam from across the room, standing at the empty fireplace, leaning his elbow against the mantle and holding a glass of champagne in the other hand. He’s speaking with a younger producer Louis sort of recognizes.

His gestures and expressions are familiar. They make Louis feel like he may be sick again. It takes him a moment to realize why.

Liam is flirting.

It’s very innocent flirting. It’s the innocent flirting they both do at work functions. Louis probably does it a great deal more than Liam does, if he’s being absolutely honest with himself.

Something about seeing it objectively and from a distance hurts Louis in his tender spots. He knows he’s feeling vulnerable right now. All of these things he knows, on an intellectual level. On an emotional level, all he knows is the hard thump of his heart and the vicious chant in his head of _mine, mine, mine, mine._

He shoves through the crowd toward them, and sidles up to Liam. Liam’s arm slides over him mindlessly, out of habit.

“I’m ready to go,” Louis says.

“Really?” Liam says, surprised. He glances at his watch. “Only eleven, love.”

“I know. I’m ready to go.”

“Sure, alright. This is Ian, by the way,” Liam says, indicating the man in front of him, who is taller and younger than Louis, and very handsome in a large-eyed, weak-jawed way. Louis can tell he’s an omega. He leans further into Liam’s touch.

“Ian, mate, good to meet you,” Louis says, shaking his hand. “You two work together, right?”

“Yeah, Liam’s great,” Ian gushes.

Louis affirms this with a fake smile and apologizes as he gently drags Liam from the conversation. He pulls him through the crowd, toward Tony, who they both say a very fond goodbye to, and repeat their congratulations.

It feels like far too long to Louis before they’re in the car, but he glances at the dash and sees it’s only 11:14.

“Why’d you drag me away?” Liam says, looking over at him. When Louis doesn’t respond, he reaches over and does up his seat belt for him, then leans into his space with a questioning look.

“I felt lousy,” Louis replies, folding his arms. “I was sick upstairs.”

“Oh, Tommo, why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Cos I just wanted to leave.”

Liam studies him. “Wait, are you angry with me?”

Louis chews the inside of his cheek.

“A tiny bit,” he finally says.

“Why, what’d I do?”

“Ask _Ian,_ ” Louis snaps.

“ _What?_ What does that mean?”

“I mean you were flirting with him!” Louis exclaims, turning at long last to Liam, who is staring at him with upset bafflement. “I come downstairs and you’ve got this, like, twenty-something just _fawning_ over you --”

“He was not!” Liam scoffs. “He respects me, is all --”

“Please, mate, he wants you to fuck him, I could tell --”

“Well, so what? What should I do about some kid at my office with a crush on me?”

“Don’t _encourage_ it!" Louis shouts. He turns the AC up as high as it can go, in lieu of getting actual fresh air. Yelling is making him more nauseated.

Liam is silent.

“I didn’t mean to,” he finally says. “I really didn’t, I promise you, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that. It was completely harmless, we were just talking. I --”

He sighs.

“I’m not, y’know, _Zayn_ \--”

Louis stares at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not Zayn!” Liam hollers. “I’m not! I’m not him in the bad ways, and I’m not him in the good ways, either!”

“What the fuck are you _talking_ about?” Louis says, aghast.

“You’ve been withdrawn,” Liam says, and draws a shaky breath. He looks like he might cry, and Louis reaches out a hand to him and rests it on his arm. “Since he went to rehab. You’ve pulled back a bit emotionally. I know you think I don’t notice the very subtle things, but I’m -- I notice everything with you. I’m your husband. It made you sad, him leaving, just like it fucked you up when he ran out on us two summers ago. And I could give it to you, and say nothing, and just be your man, but it’s like -- we’re having a _baby_ , Louis! We made a baby together, and I want this to be one of the best times in our lives!”

“It is,” Louis assures him, stricken. “It _is_ …” he rubs his arm. “God, Payno, you’re killing me here --”

“I know you don’t have feelings for him --”

“Of course I don’t!” Louis cries. “Jesus Christ!”

“I think you like having him around,” Liam mutters. “For how much you complain about him, for how much hell we’ve all put each other through -- you’ve got this bond as co-parents that you and I don’t have yet. The like -- seeing yourselves in her bit.”

“I mean --”

“No, let me finish,” Liam says, in a strained voice. “And I think that before things got bad between you two after our wedding, you’d started to consider him a friend again. Your partner in parenting, just like you were partners in crime back in the band. And I think him leaving -- whether it was two years ago irresponsibly, or now, responsibly, I think…”

Liam finally lays his hand on top of Louis’, to Louis’ great relief.

“I think it reminds you of when he left the band,” Liam murmurs. “I think especially right now, since you’re pregnant, it reminds you of that. And I think it brings up a lot of negative feelings for you, and you just relive how awful that situation was, but you don’t admit that to me or yourself.”

Louis sits there, stunned. He watches as people cross the street in front of their car, trying to get to their own. Garish lights twinkle on the fence-posts leading up to Tony’s castle-like mansion.

“I don’t think you’re entirely wrong,” Louis admits. His stomach quakes and he wonders for a moment if he might have to vomit again, but there’s nothing left in him to come up. “I don’t -- I mean. I think that’s all fair. None of it reflects on you at all, though, love. And it isn’t _just_ that he’s gone --”

“No, no, I know --”

“It’s not having his help with Mia, when I’m worn down from the baby, and all of this shit at work, and knowing you’re going to have to go to the states for a few weeks, and like -- it getting leaked unexpectedly, worrying about if Mia will ask awkward questions --”

“I know, babe, I do know all that --”

Louis falls silent.

“I know you’d never actually hit on someone else,” he murmurs. “Especially not when I’m... That just isn’t who you are. I was acting a bit crazy, I'm sorry.”

“You have no idea how upset it makes me for you to even imply that,” Liam says, his jaw tight.

“You know how I am,” Louis retorts, defensive, raw. “You know I get insecure, you know all of my weaknesses with this. You know -- he was dating a supermodel! I was pregnant, and he was datin’ a _supermodel!_ ”

“And you were dating _me!_ Oh, Louis,” Liam groans, his hands over his eyes. “Let’s not drag up shit from seven years ago. Alright?”

Louis swallows and nods. A moment passes.

“He left all of us,” Liam finally says, in a small voice. “I just want to say that, 'cos I think it's important. Left me, too. He didn’t know you were pregnant. He thought he was being a shitty friend, a bad teammate, not a shithead ex.”

“I know,” Louis says mournfully.

“Left Harry.”

“I _know_.”

Louis screws up his face and presses his hands to his eyes. So many of the tender parts of his psyche are throbbing with hurt.

“Don’t you think I hate how selfish I am about this?” he says, struggling to drag these words from himself. “Don’t you think I hate how I can’t stop feeling like I’m the only one he’s hurt? Don’t you think I hate bein’ that person about him?”

“Maybe you ought to bring this up in therapy,” Liam says, very patiently. “Maybe we ought to go together, so I can say my piece. Maybe you haven’t been entirely candid with Lena.”

“I’m sure I haven’t.”

“There’s shit you haven’t dealt with, Louis.”

“I know.”

Louis sighs heavily.

“I need you to know I’m so happy,” he says. “That I’m deliriously happy with you, in our marriage. That I love my life with you and our daughter. I need you to know that no matter what, I love being pregnant with your baby, and I love coming home to you every day.”

Liam squeezes his hand.

“I know,” he says, in a warm voice. “Me too. We’ve got it so good, really. Got to remember that more often.”

He reaches out and places his hand on Louis’ belly, and Louis rests his hand atop Liam’s.

“I hate fighting with you,” Liam says fervently. “About serious things, I mean. I know we have silly fights all the time. This, I hate.”

“Me too.”

They sit for a while longer, their hands pressed to the warm swell of his stomach. They people-watch for a while, pointing passing industry figures out to one another as the older party-goers head out and the younger ones arrive.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” Louis finally decides. “Before someone sees our car’s still here and tries to talk to us.”

“Good call,” Liam says, turning the car on. “Hey, I know you've just been sick, but d’you want curly fries?”

Louis considers this. “Actually, that sounds incredible.”

“Good, ‘cos we’re definitely stopping for curly fries. I'd already decided.”

“You're a gentleman and a scholar, Liam Payne.”

 

*

 

“Daddy?” Mia calls.

Louis stops in the middle of the dark hall and goes to Mia’s door, pushing it open. She sits up in bed, squinting at him.

“Nanny said you were asleep,” he whispers. “Did we wake you? Sorry...”

“Come here!”

Louis comes to her bedside. She lies down back against her pillows, and he strokes her hair. He picks up her stuffed seal who has fallen unceremoniously from the bed, and places it in her arms.

“I remember waiting up for my mum,” he whispers. “Always seemed so fun to be an adult when I was your age.”

Mia nods. He knows she's particularly desperate to enter the grown-up world; when they have parties, she sits on the stairs in her pajamas, listening to the echoing conversations and drunken laughter. Louis will find sometimes her there around midnight when he goes upstairs to fetch something, having fallen asleep leaning her little chin on her closed fist, and he’ll carry her up to bed.

“You know, it's very special to be a kid,” he murmurs. “It's nice to be an adult, but I miss what you have. Enjoy it while you've got it.”

She nods. He sits next to her on her bed. She's got her curtains slightly parted, enough to see the moon hanging milky between two clouds.

The house is very peaceful, except for the sound of Liam moving around in their bedroom down the hall.

“What will you name the baby?” Mia whispers.

“Not sure,” Louis says, continuing to stroke her hair. He glances down at her. “Don't know if it's a boy or a girl.”

“Can I help name it? Sadie got to help name her little sister.”

“Sure, sweets. Absolutely.”

She beams at him. “Okay. I'll go to sleep now.”

“Alright,” he says, and leans down to kiss her on the cheek. “Night night.”

 

LLANTWIT MAJOR, JUNE 30, 2022

“Oi!” Niall shouts out his front door. “Who’s that at me gate? Could it be my favorite person and her slackoff bastard pair of fathers?”

Laughing, Louis starts up the path to him, but Niall hollers, “Stall the ball, I'll come to ya,” and begins putting his boots on.

His hair is a dark, dingy blonde, and he's got the sort of beard a man grows when he's separated from his spouse. His rambling white clapboard house sits half on the scrub, half on stilts over the beach.

Halfway down the path, Niall squats down; Louis turns in time to see Mia dart out from behind Liam and run to collide with Niall. Niall laughs hysterically, picking her up and hoisting her in the air. She giggles hysterically and shrieks.

Louis feels for Niall, watching him. He was never fully ready for step-fatherhood, but he did the best with Heath he could, and he came to adore that kid. He knows Niall must be hurting right now, being away from him and Barbara both.

Liam follows Mia up the path and once Niall has set her back on her feet, wraps him in a bear hug; they stand there for a moment.

Louis watches them, then approaches.

“LT!” Niall crows. “How pregnant are you, now?”

“Fifteen weeks,” Louis says, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“You sure?” Niall says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You look a bit more than that. You got twins in there?”

Louis gapes at him in offense and then tackles Niall to the ground, play-fighting with him.

“I’d better not!” he says, getting him in a headlock. Niall apologizes profusely in between wheezes of laughter. Mia joins in, and Niall protests the unfairness of two-on-one.

“Oh, lads, please,” Liam fusses. “Louis, be careful, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don't be a wuss, I'm fine!” Louis calls as Niall rolls him onto his back, playfully slaps the side of face and then helps him to his feet.

“Lemme feel,” Niall says, stepping close and extending his hands to Louis’ belly.

Louis nods, surprised. Niall touches him, at first hesitantly and then more sure.

“You know, you never wanted to touch me when I was havin’ ‘er,” Louis says, indicating Mia.

“Ah, well, I was young, got squeamish easier,” Niall says, grinning. “I still don't like it when they move, mind you... Doesn't do that yet, does it?”

“Haven't felt it yet. Any day now, though.”

Niall comically starts, and removes his hands with a fearful grimace. Louis and Liam laugh.

Mia looks to Niall quizzically. “You remember before I was born?”

“Ohh, yeah, kiddo,” Niall says, clearing his throat. “That was a time.”

Liam ruffles Mia’s hair. She glances from Louis, and then to Liam.

“Let's get a move on,” Louis says, sliding his arm over Niall’s shoulders and indicating for Liam and Mia to walk ahead. Liam takes the hint and gives them room to talk quietly.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you and Barb?” Louis murmurs, when his daughter is out of earshot.

“Uh, I'll do you one better, boyo, what the hell is goin’ on with Zayn?” Niall rejoinders, glancing at Louis. Louis sighs.

“I'm not married to Zayn,” he mutters.

“Yeah, and Barb ain't in rehab.”

“Fair point.”

“I know it is.”

They walk in silence for a while until they reach the coast. Mia is already getting down to business in the tidepools, kneeling in the mud and watching with large awed eyes as the little animals in them move around. Liam stands near her, his lips moving but his voice carried away by the wind so that Louis can’t hear him.

Louis leads them up to a small outcropping and sits, motioning for Niall to sit next to him. They look out across the gray Welsh water. Niall worries at his lip with his teeth, and sighs.

“Dunno,” he says. “Never thought I was much the marryin’ type. The rest of you’ve got me beat on that.”

“What happened?” Louis says, turning to him.

Niall shrugs. There’s a bleakness to his face that makes Louis’ heart ache.

“We just grew apart,” Niall says.

Louis shivers in the wind coming off of the ocean. Niall slips an arm around his shoulders.

“Married people really hate hearin’ about this, don’t they?” he says drily.

“Oh, Neel,” Louis says apologetically, dropping his head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, lad, I -- it isn’t like that at all.”

“No, I get it, it’s scary. You want to think that we did somethin’ wrong, so you can know it won’t happen to you. For the record, I don’t think it will. But take the warning anyway.”

“But what _did_ happen?”

“I s’pose we just forgot to appreciate each other,” Niall says, rubbing at his beard. “We forgot to keep things special. I got busy with me clients, forgot to do little nice things with her. We stopped havin’ sex. She started to get weird about my friendship with Ellie. I felt alienated from her… I focused on Heath, teachin’ him golf and shit, so I’d feel like I was doin’ somethin’ familial, but she just felt like I was checking out of our marriage and only stayin’ in it ‘cos I liked bein’ his stepdad.”

“I know how much you love her,” Louis murmurs. “Can’t believe you’d let her forget that.”

“I couldn’t either. Didn’t happen all at once, just day by day. Hey, she let me forget, too.”

“Maybe some time apart will do you good.”

“I hope so. Christ.”

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says genuinely. “Did I tell you that? I am. This shouldn’t’ve happened to you two. You were a good couple. You’re like, the most deserving bloke I know… you’re my brother, y’know? I hate seein’ you like this.”

“I’ve got my flaws,” Niall says, nudging him. “Bit hard-headed. Don’t see the forest for the trees, sometimes. Look, I forgot to appreciate what I had. Being married is fuckin’ hard. You’ve got to look at someone, day in and day out, and think, like, I love all the things I hate about them. That’s hard. It ain’t for the faint of heart.”

“No, fuck no. Not at all.”

“I sort of get now, why Harry’s so negative on it,” Niall murmurs. “Which is funny, ‘cos he’s like -- y’know, so broody and romantic, wants a baby down the road, wants somebody in his life. But he’s practical, on the whole of it. Maybe more than any of the rest of us.”

Louis nods. “He’s got more good sense than me. Always has.”

“Oh, I dunno about that…”

“Yeah, you do.”

Niall snorts. “If you insist, Tommo.”

“So," Louis says, changing the subject, "I hate to disappoint, but I haven’t got much Zayn news.”

Mia lets out a shrieking peal of laughter. Louis glances over and sees that Liam has stepped in a pool that was evidently much deeper than it seemed; his jeans are soaked up to the knee. He’s grinning sheepishly. Louis groans fondly.

“Daft arse,” he murmurs. “He’ll be miserable the whole way home, now.”

“I’ll loan him a pair,” Niall says. “Now, get back to it...”

He jabs Louis playfully in the ribs.

“Oi, please be careful with me,” Louis says, with mock indignation. “I have a baby in, and am therefore now made of china.”

Niall laughs quite hard. It does Louis good to hear.

“Why are you so interested in Zayn?” he says, glancing at him.

Niall shrugs. “No reason,” he says.

Louis knows there’s got to be one, but doesn’t feel like prying.

“He’s doing well,” he says. He shifts his weight, and Niall drops his arm. “He seems more level-headed and, like, less raw emotionally. I dunno. It's like he had a thorn in him all this time, and someone's finally pulled it out, or something.”

“I knew he’d been havin’ a hard time,” Niall says. “Or at least he was, a few summers ago.”

Louis laughs ruefully. “Aye, yeah.”

“Didn’t know he still was. Hadn’t heard anythin’ like that for a while.”

“I think he was high-functioning,” Louis says. “He hid it well for a while. He only just confessed to me that it was getting bad, like, a few weeks before he decided t’ go. I think it was just a lot of things comin’ home to roost.”

“Was it just drinkin’?”

Louis nods slowly. “As far as I know. As far as he’s said. I know he’s kept doing drugs over the years -- never when he had the kid, of course, but… I dunno. I stopped smokin’ weed altogether, and he didn’t.”

Niall is quiet. They both sit there, whipped by the breeze.

“I _know_ he’s a good dad,” Louis murmurs. “I know he is. That’s what kills me, like. The only thing that kept him from fully spiralin’ all these years was his daughter.”

“It’s a good thing, right?”

“It is, but it makes me feel for ‘im. I keep thinking about him drinking his weeks away, then going through withdrawals when he had her, for her sake, and I just feel..." Louis bites his lip. "I feel rotten, honestly. I feel like we ought to have taken 'im in, or summat, or like... I dunno. I just didn't know. He hid it so well for so long. And I had the luxury of thinking he was acting out for no reason."

Niall presses his forehead to Louis' shoulder. Louis is overcome by fraternal feelings toward him, and strokes his hair. 

"I dunno," he says, again. "A lot of this just… it’s tough.”

Niall nods. “Be nice if he…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Became the Zayn we used to know?” Louis says softly. “It’d be fantastic. After all this time...”

He watches his daughter stand on the shore, staring down, fascinated by the tiny worlds she’s seeing. Her dark hair is tied back, the shorter pieces whipping against her face in the wind. It’s occurred to him before that if you count forward from her conception, she is exactly as old as Zayn having left the band.

Niall clicks his tongue against his teeth and exhales, raising his head and rubbing Louis’ back. “We’ll see, right?”

“We’ll see, aye.”

 

*

 

“Hey,” Louis calls to Liam, who's in the bathroom washing his face. Louis is stretched out on the bed in exhaustion, looking at the ceiling.

Liam comes to him and kneels between his legs on the bed; Louis directs Liam’s hand to his stomach.

“Guess who moved,” Louis murmurs, with a broad smile.

Liam's face lights up. “Really? It did?”

“I just felt a tiny little…” Louis makes a gesture.

Liam lays both hands on him, covering his belly from hip to hip, and waits very patiently.

“You may not be able to feel it, lad,” Louis says. “For a while, I'm the only one who can. Least that's how it was with Mims, remember?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, with a disappointed look. “I do. Shit.”

Louis settles against the pillows, placing his hands over Liam’s and stroking the backs of them with his thumbs. Liam studies him with dark eyes. He smiles and tips his head back, inviting Liam to kiss him; Liam leans in and slides an arm under Louis’ shoulders, then meets his lips.

“Feeling romantic?” Liam murmurs, before leaning in to kiss him again.

Louis nods, running his hands up the back of Liam's neck and through his hair. “Where’s the kid gone to?”

“Her room, reading… she'll be there for hours.”

“Good,” Louis purrs.

Liam disrobes them both, with swift gentle hands. Louis closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation of being tugged at and handled.

Liam pulls Louis up and off the bed so he can place a pillow under his lower back and another under his neck, then places his hands on Louis’ thighs. Louis grins at him.

“You spoil me,” he teases.

Liam kisses his nose and thrusts against him, his hard cock pressing against Louis’ hipbone. “Hey, I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you, and I love our baby.”

“You're in a good mood,” Louis remarks, sliding his hands over Liam’s muscular back and then squeezing his arse. “I love you and baby too...”

“I'm just cherishing you,” Liam says, sucking at his neck. Louis moans and clings to him harder. “Thinking about what Niall said to you.”

“Payno, if you stop cherishin’ me, I'll know we're fucked,” Louis says throatily, and he cups Liam's face and nuzzles him. “You're the most lovey bloke ever.”

Liam seems pleased to hear this. He slides into Louis, then, and Louis groans with gratification. The muscles in him clench and release in rolling, sensuous waves. Liam rolls them onto their sides, and Louis slings a leg over Liam's hip so he can stay inside him.

They kiss deeply as Liam lazily thrusts, stroking each other's hair and faces. Liam keeps one hand against the dip of Louis’ waist.

“You're so sexy,” he murmurs.

“Mmm, tell me more…”

“You're really just, like, very sexy…”

“What a wordsmith you are,” Louis says, chuckling. “Christ, you feel so good…”

“You feel good too,” Liam says softly, kissing his hairline and sliding his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair, stroking his scalp. He spreads Louis’ legs a little further apart to get deeper into him, and Louis moans appreciatively.

He rolls onto his back and Liam rolls with him, moving his hips with a more steady and piston-like rhythm. Louis moves his hands over Liam's back to rest at the small of his waist. They gaze at each other.

Louis feels healed by the fight they had in the car on Friday. It didn't resolve much of anything, but he feels like he's a stone that's been overturned in a garden to reveal the insects beneath. He knows now that his husband sees him, really sees him, and that that isn't as dire as he worried it might be in his darkest and most buried thoughts.

Louis pulls Liam closer. Liam nuzzles his neck and kisses gently under his ear as he moves inside of him. Louis sighs with pleasure, and squeezes his thighs around Liam’s waist.

 

LONDON, JULY 2, 2022

Louis’ ultrasound tech is named Jobes; he doesn't offer a first name, jovially exclaiming, “Call me Jobes!” and patting the exam table. Louis takes a seat, pushing the specter of twins from his head and allowing himself to fill with excitement. He loves surprising Liam with happy news.

“Alright, so today we're looking for gender _and_ number, am I correct?” Jobes says.

Louis lifts his shirt to allow the cool gel to be spread over his skin. He's used to it now. “Gender and number, aye.”

“Got it. It's like conjugating verbs, yeah?”

Louis laughs. “I dunno, mate, I wasn't much for languages in school.”

“I was,” Jobes says, starting up the machine. “But this pays a lot more than being an academic, as you can imagine.”

Louis lets his head fall back against the table. The wand meets the swell of his belly. He closes his eyes for a second and squeezes one hand into a brief fist, steeling himself for whatever will come.

He can have two babies. He can take care of two babies and a kid. He's his mother’s son, after all.

“Okay,” Jobes murmurs, as he moves the wand lower and lower.

Louis allows himself to look at the screen. The seconds stretch out longer and longer as the tech squints, chews at his lip and says nothing. Louis looks to him, silently pleading with him to speak.

“Everything's alright, right?” he finally says, his heart quickening.

“Oh, yes,” Jobes exclaims. “No, your baby's utterly healthy. I'm sorry, I don't mean to look grim, here. Just concentrating.”

“Right,” Louis says, observing him.

Jobes finally looks back to him with a smile, removes the wand from him and sets it down.

“So,” he says, snapping off his gloves. “I can properly confirm that you've only got one baby in there.”

Louis sags in relief against the table. He brings his hand to his chest and then trails it lower, over his ribs and down to his belly. “And…”

“It's a boy,” Jobes says cheerily.

Louis is overcome by a powerful swell of joy. He exhales hard and then grins.

“A son?”

“ _Your_ son!”

“Shit, Liam'll love that so much,” he murmurs happily. “God, that'll make his day.”

“So good news all around, today?”

“Absolutely, mate. Thanks so much.”

He shakes Jobes’ hand, and then is given a minute to collect his thoughts before he heads out.

Louis stares at the circular light on the ceiling and the bland tiling above it. He gets lost in his thoughts, imagining what a boy the two of them made will be like, imagining all of the things they'll teach him.

Being so young and untested when he had Mia, he had thought his heart and mind had done as much expanding as they were capable of doing. He thought the many doors she unlocked and windows she tossed open for him, the intense and powerful love she kindled in him, were all the work of a firstborn clearing out land that the children who came after would live on as well. The weight and depth of his love for her was so staggering and infinite that it did not seem it could be expanded upon.

Louis has lately been realizing that he was a fool for ever thinking that. The halls inside his heart go on endlessly. The love inside of him is endless. His son will open his own doors, many different than Mia’s, and he will leave pieces of himself inside of Louis the same way she has. He can't wait.

He hopes his baby looks like Liam, and sounds like him. He hopes he has gentle hands, a sweet smile and silly whims.

 

LONDON, JANUARY 20, 2023

Zayn leans against the doorway as he buzzes a second time. He wonders if they might not be home, but he glances back toward the drive and sees all four cars.

Violet crocuses bloom in the front yard, peeking up from under the frost. Zayn likes looking at them. He's been trying to appreciate small, good things these days. He hears footsteps and swearing and smiles to himself, knowing Louis is on his way. 

Louis pulls open the large front door and leans on it, brushing his hip against the bronze lion knocker. He’s curvier than he’s been in ages from baby weight, his eyes puffy from lack of sleep, his hair longish and sort of a wreck. He's got a few days worth of stubble. In spite of all this, he remains attractive in that wily, inexplicable way of his.

The baby is in his arms; large and healthy-looking, with bright eyes and pink cheeks. He already strongly resembles Liam.

“Hey there,” Louis says in a scratchy voice, looking surprised. “You do know it's Tuesday, right?”

Zayn can't help looking at the baby in his arms, who is very calm and stares back at Zayn without focusing on him. Zayn digs in his pocket.

The chip sits in there, next to his lighter. Zayn takes it in his fingers and holds it up for Louis to see.

“Five months sober,” he murmurs. “Wanted you to have it.”

Louis’ gaze flicks from Zayn’s eyes to his hand. He tentatively takes it.

“You haven't got to --” he clears his throat and shifts the baby on his hip. “I trust you, mate.”

Zayn feels thwarted. He shrugs. “Just tryin’ to make amends. That's part of the whole sobriety bit.”

“I don't need this, though,” Louis says, in a small, hushed voice. “I don't need you to prove anythin’ to me. I want to just put my trust in you, an’ put it out of my head.”

They stand in silence, looking at each other. Zayn sighs with frustration and rubs at his forehead. The baby fusses and Louis coos to him, hitching him up in his arms.

“Come in, would you?” he says, sounding a bit frazzled. “I'm sorry, I'm bein’ rude. Let's talk in here.”

“Where's Liam?” Zayn says, as he steps into the hall behind Louis.

“Upstairs, helping Mia put a dollhouse together.”

Zayn didn't particularly want Liam to be home, but he supposes that feeling is vestigial and he ought to let go of it anyway. He and Louis settle onto the couch, the baby in Louis’ lap. The baby looks at Zayn again, and burbles at him.

“Want to hold him a sec?” Louis says. His voice is reedy with exhaustion.

“Sure,” Zayn mutters. He's only met Oliver in passing, when he's picked Mia up.

Oliver is an awkward weight in his arms. Where holding Mia as a baby felt right and comforting, holding Oliver feels like cradling a cat, or some unwieldy object like an Airsoft gun or a xylophone. Zayn gets the distinct feeling that Oliver senses his apathy toward him.

“Hi,” Zayn says, bouncing the baby slightly. Oliver makes an unhappy face. Zayn grimaces at him. He tries to make his body language less stiff.

Louis observes this and then snorts, relieving him of the baby. “Alright, I get it.”

“Noo, we were just gettin’ comfortable,” Zayn protests weakly, immediately handing the baby back.

“Zayn, I get it, don't worry.”

“I like him,” Zayn lies. “What's not t’ like?”

Louis cocks an eyebrow, smiles, and says nothing.

“So,” Zayn says, smoothly changing tacks. “How's Mia?”

“Good,” Louis assures him. “She's glad you're home.”

“I mean with the baby,” Zayn clarifies, observing him.

Louis mouths _oh_ and then gnaws at his lip and nods. “Didn't quite know what to make of him at first,” he says. “Now she's more fond of him, but we've ‘ad to be careful to spend quite a bit of time with her or she gets stroppy. Think she's valuing her time with you even more, lately, since you… y’know, were gone, and like… Liam and I are always tired, and the baby's here…”

Zayn is warmed by this, and his heart squeezes with love for his daughter.

Louis looks fondly at him. “I like seein’ that smile,” he murmurs.

Zayn clears his throat and maintains eye contact with difficulty. Louis presses his lips to Oliver’s little head and kisses him absent-mindedly. Zayn watches him, feeling glad that of all the people in the world who might have had his child, it was Louis, who loves his babies more than anything.

“How've you been?” Zayn says.

Louis shrugs. “Tired. Stitches’ve been botherin’ me. Was nice to plan it, though, know what day we were going to bring him home on, all that.”

He sits back against the couch with Oliver flat against his chest. Oliver fists his little hands in Louis’ cotton tee.

“How've _you_ been?” Louis says softly, glancing up at Zayn with canny blue eyes.

“Sober,” Zayn says, growing nervy about being on the spot. “Um… it sucks, really.”

Louis nods. “I know,” he says.

“Right,” Zayn mutters.

“Not to compare,” Louis says quickly. “Never been through what you went through. It's just after you left the band, I was… I dunno, it was a rough patch, and then I found out, and I had to get off everythin’ cold turkey, and I wanted to kill somebody all the time, so…”

They both laugh.

“I'm just, like.” Zayn shrugs. “Smokin’ a lot.”

“I know.”

“Not weed.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes a bit of weed,” he admits.

Louis laughs. “Mate…”

“Just a little joint once in a while. I keep finding ‘em in my pockets, is all.”

“Have you got one right now?” Louis jokes, his eyes twinkling. Zayn chokes on a laugh.

He hears footsteps on the stairs and then Liam calling, “Have I lost my mind, or do we have company?”

“Jury's out on the first bit, but we do have company, yeah,” Louis calls back. “Zayn's here.”

Liam enters the room smiling. Louis beckons him over and holds up a pliant Oliver to him.

“I just had him!” Liam protests, but gladly takes their baby, who looks very at home in his arms. “Hey, mate, good to see you,” he says to Zayn. They shake hands a bit awkwardly.

“I was just, um,” Zayn says, and then he becomes a bit anxious and looks to Louis, who tilts his head reassuringly. “Just tellin’ Louis I'm five months sober now.”

“Hey! That's fantastic,” Liam says genuinely. He pats Zayn and then squeezes him on the shoulder. His touch has a searching neediness to it, as if he's afraid Zayn might brush him off. Zayn gives him a small smile.

Liam smiles back at him and then removes his hand to better support Oliver’s head.

“Payno, could you be a love and make us all some tea?” Louis says, glancing at Zayn. “I'll take El Blobbo back.”

“He is not El Blobbo!” Liam exclaims, handing Louis their baby. “And yes, I can.”

Louis waits until Liam is out of earshot and then moves closer to Zayn on the couch, clasping his hands and inclining his head.

“What I said earlier,” he says, “all I meant was like -- I don't want you to feel like you've got to prove anything to me. It isn't as if we had an intervention and forced you to go. In fact, I was surprised by how mature you went about it, you know?”

“Yeah?” Zayn says, sounding small to himself. “Haven't felt much like the adult here for a while now.”

Louis reaches out and takes his hand. Zayn squeezes him. Louis looks into his eyes.

“You told me you needed to go,” he says. “You came to that conclusion on your own. You went for your daughter. You finished out the program, and you've stuck with it. I'm really… I'm proud of you, mate. You're still in the end of the business where you’ve got so many people in your life who just tell you what they think you want to hear, and you could have just -- sort of --”

“Let ‘em tell me it was alright to be a drunk?” Zayn says softly. “I did. For a while.”

Louis sighs and leans into him, his head on Zayn's shoulder. A year ago, Zayn would have found this show of affection from him immensely painful. He finds himself able to take it for what it is, now.

“I missed you,” Louis murmurs.

“I wanted to ask you somethin’,” Zayn says, and he grows tense with anxiety. His heart seems to curdle in his chest.

Louis pulls back to look at him, and nods.

“I, um…” Zayn disentangles their hands and rests his on Louis’ knee. The noise in the kitchen has gone quiet; he wonders if the tea is ready and Liam is politely waiting for them to finish their talk. That would be the Liam-like thing to do.

“This came up in therapy,” Zayn says. His voice has grown rough and he clears his throat. “An’ I didn't know the answer. But… would you’ve kept Mia if she'd’ve been anyone else's? Someone random? Or Eleanor’s?”

Louis withdraws a bit, folding his arms across his chest. He sits back and looks into space, bouncing one leg.

“Um,” he says. “Bit of a heavy question, that.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just -- we were havin’ a moment, so…”

Louis lets out a breathy laugh. “Right. Um… I suppose not. No. And I don't know if I'd have kept her if you'd stayed on the tour, either. If we'd have been together. That would’ve been somethin’ we’d have decided together, and I can’t imagine us not talking ourselves out of it.”

This is a bittersweet and complicated declaration. It isn't necessarily what Zayn wanted to hear.

“It's just like, I'd been through so much,” Louis continues. “I felt sort of crazy and like the world was ending, and I was at this awful low point, and then I got one of the things I'd always wanted, I got a baby. Just at the total wrong time and with so many strings attached. I felt defiant, sort of, like who is anyone to tell me not to keep my baby? And I fell in love with her so early on…” his voice breaks, and he sighs.

"Please," Zayn says softly, and Louis looks at him. "This is important for me... we never talk about this, y'know?"

Louis nods slowly. “I just, like... I knew that you and me... there's no way we wouldn't have made somethin’ great. Maybe it'd be tricky to deal with and a little crazy and headstrong, but there's no way we didn't make a great baby. And just… she was yours. I guess -- when I was still hurting over you goin’, I felt like it was too painful to have _you_ in my life anymore, but I wanted what we made… what you left behind with me.”

Zayn feels as though he can barely breathe, and beckons Louis back to him. Louis obliges and Zayn holds him tightly, pressing his face to his shoulder and stroking his back.

“We did make a great baby,” Zayn murmurs. Louis laughs tearily.

“I've got good instincts for that sort of thing,” Louis says, and Zayn laughs, too.

“I didn't give you the chip ‘cos I feel accountable to you,” he says to Louis. “I gave it to you ‘cos I want you to know how serious I’m takin’ all this. That's all.”

“Right, well, I appreciate it, mate. I really do.”

They both smile at each other, and Louis wipes his eyes.

“God, I'm like a faucet,” he says. “I forgot how stupid these hormones are. Liam!”

“Yeah!” Liam's faraway voice calls back.

“Where's the tea, babe!”

There's a pause.

“It's done,” Liam calls, “but you were talking!”

“Oh, alright. We've finished!”

Liam appears in the doorway, holding a tray with one hand and the baby in the other. Louis quickly gets up and relieves him of Oliver. He grows fussy, so Louis remains standing and bounces from foot to foot cooing to him.

Liam settles on the couch next to Zayn and offers him a cup. Zayn takes a sip, and is surprised that Liam still remembers how he takes it.

“Does he need fed?” Liam says, propping his feet up on the coffee table and observing Louis.

“He _just_ ate,” Louis says, continuing to bounce him, looking a bit exasperated.

“Maybe colicky?”

“I think you're right.”

Zayn stands, and they both look at him.

“I've got a meetin’ in about an hour,” he says, “but I was gonna go visit with Yas…”

Louis nods emphatically. “Course.”

“She's still in her room, I think,” Liam says, running his hands through his hair. “Playing with the dollhouse.”

Zayn gives them both a wave and then makes his way upstairs. He pauses halfway up, listening to their chatter, but it sounds very ordinary and domestic. He idly wonders how often they talk about him, and what they say.

When he gets to Mia’s room, he stands in the doorway for a while and watches her. The dollhouse is massive and obviously an antique, with intricate design and seventies-style furnishings. Zayn glances around her room, happy to see that the things he’s bought her seem to be the most well-loved and frequently used. A stuffed seal he got for her rests by her pillow.

He knocks on her open door. She turns and beams at him.

“Daddy!”

“Hi there,” Zayn says softly, coming over and sitting cross-legged next to her. “So what’s goin’ on wiv this family?”

“Well,” Mia begins, sounding like an adorable imitation of the nature documentaries she loves. Zayn smiles at her. “The mommy is working too hard, and the daddy doesn’t like it. She works in a big office downtown and when he comes home there’s no dinner. And she’s always tired.”

It would not take a rocket scientist to puzzle out where she derived this narrative from. Zayn tries not to snort. “Go on,” he says.

“Timmy is bad at school and his friends hate him,” Mia carries on with all the confidence in the world. “Susan is a witch with magic powers.”

“So she’s the odd man out, clearly,” Zayn says, grinning.

“Nobody knows she has magic powers,” Mia says somberly. “It’s _very_ complicated.”

“Of course.”

“This is baby Donald,” she continues, holding up a delicately crafted toddler doll. “He’s stupid because he’s a baby and he doesn’t do anything.”

She tosses him back into the crib.

“Mmm,” Zayn says. “So how d’you like Oliver?”

Mia turns. He sometimes finds it a bit unsettling when she looks at him with Louis’ eyes.

“He doesn’t do anything either,” she says with annoyance. “Just cries a lot.”

“You were the same way as a baby,” he informs her.

She shrugs at him.

“He'll get more interesting.”

“When?”

“Give him a year or two,” Zayn says.

“A _year!_ ”

“Don't be impatient. No one likes impatience.”

Mia sighs.

“How do you like being seven so far?”

“It's not different,” she says. “Just more fingers.”

Zayn squints at her. She holds up seven fingers to demonstrate.

“Ohh," he says, grinning at her.

"And my favorite color is green now," she says. Zayn nods with somber understanding, and Mia turns back to the dollhouse, looking lost in thought. Zayn nudges her on the shoulder.

“Since you're a bit bigger now,” he says, “I thought you'd like to maybe start tryin’ out some instruments.”

She looks back at him with curiosity.

“Want to?” he says.

“Yeah!”

“Alright,” Zayn says, kissing her on the side of the head. “I've got a meeting now, so I've got to split. But I'll pick you up early Friday, and we’ll do that?”

“Okay,” Mia says cheerfully. “See you.”

Zayn strokes her hair. “Bye, love.”

Louis is waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. Zayn slips his hands into his pockets.

“Everythin’ good?” Louis says, raising his eyebrows.

Zayn nods. “Seems to be. I'm pickin’ her up early Friday, if that's alright.”

Louis flaps his hand. “Of course. We’ll both be home, come by whenever.”

“Alright,” Zayn says.

He reaches out to Louis, and Louis comes forward to hug him.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispers in Zayn’s ear.

Zayn squeezes him. “Back at you.”

They separate and look at each other for a moment. Zayn clears his throat, and his phone buzzes in his pocket.

“Shit, I've really got to go...”

Louis nods, and walks him to the front door.

“Bye Liam,” Zayn calls out as they move through the foyer.

“Bye, mate!” Liam shouts back.

Louis leans against the doorway and gives Zayn a smile as he leaves. Zayn returns it. He walks out into the brilliantly sunny winter day, shrugging his jacket more firmly over his shoulders as he's whipped by the wind.


End file.
